Redemption
by Syrenslure
Summary: Willow and Wesley made some bad choices this year and must deal with the consequences of their actions. Post season 6/3. (Willow/Wesley)
1. Chapters 1 through 5

Title: Redemption   
  
Author: Syrenslure   
  
E-mail: love2watch@softhome.net   
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Willow, Wesley, Angel Investigations or any of the characters whose lives I play with in   
  
this story. Joss owns them all. All hail Joss. Without Joss there would be no Buffy and no Buffy fan fiction. So this is all his fault. *nodding sadly*   
  
Pairings: Willow/Wesley (Willow/Tara, Fred/Gunn, minor Cordelia/Angel)   
  
Rating: PG-13, or the equivalent of the shows.   
  
Timeline: Post-Season 3 Angel, Post-Season 6 Buffy. Contains spoilers for all episodes to that point.  
  
Summary: Willow and Wesley made some bad choices this year and must deal with the consequences of their   
  
actions.   
  
Distribution: Syrenslure's Fan Fiction, Near Her Always, list archives. Please do not archive without permission. ( http://panthermoon.com/dreaming )   
  
Notes: I, at times, hated and loved what Joss did with the characters this season. After the Angel Season finale,   
  
Joss (along with David G.) is the person that I love to hate. This story came to me almost immediately, before I   
  
had seen the Buffy finale even (though I was horribly spoiled by the wildfeed.) This is my answer to the   
  
questions left by the finales and my way of showing my love for these characters and the shows they are on.  
  
Huge, huge thank you's to Kaz who beta'd this and put up with me through three long months and a humongous   
  
case of writer's block. You're the best, thank you for helping me to make this happen.  
  
Begun: 21 May 2002  
  
Finished: 28 Aug 2002  
  
**********  
  
Chapter 1  
  
They were watching her again. They tried to hide it and pretend that all was well, but she could feel the little   
  
pinpricks of awareness that danced over her skin as their eyes followed her everywhere.  
  
She tried to ignore their scrutiny, on some level accepting it as penance for almost killing them all and trying to   
  
destroy the world. The Magic Box was being repaired and she was doing her time as a Scooby, helping to   
  
research the latest threat, which didn't happen to be her. However, repaired or not, the Magic Box would never   
  
be the same and neither would their friendships. There weren't enough chocolate chips in the world to fix this, so   
  
she accepted their mistrust and cautiousness.  
  
"I found it," she stated, looking up to find her suspicions confirmed. Xander quickly became fascinated by the   
  
wood he was measuring, seemingly absorbed in the renovations and Giles looked at her with unmasked   
  
speculation. Buffy seemed a bundle of unchanneled energy, as if itching for a fight. Willow was sure that while   
  
that was partly due to the demon they had been researching, part of it also stemmed from her proximity to her   
  
best friend.  
  
Willow knew that they couldn't go on like this for long. The tension was nearing a breaking point. Giles would   
  
come to her to "talk" soon. She had been waiting for this, but still didn't know what she would tell him. She   
  
hadn't completely made peace with her actions either.  
  
The expected chat arrived sooner than she thought. That afternoon, as she was shelving the books that they had   
  
used in research under Anya's watchful eye, he called to her.  
  
"Willow, would you come assist me in the training room?"  
  
She nodded, "Sure, Giles," and slid the book she was holding into place.  
  
She entered the room and saw Giles sitting on the couch, his elbows resting on his knees and his fingers   
  
steepled beneath his chin. She moved to join him.  
  
"Are the nightmares any better?" He asked to open the conversation.  
  
"They're okay," she answered quietly. In her new spirit of openness and attrition, she had told him of the nightly   
  
visions she had of Tara and her death and the horrors that plagued her sleep.  
  
"I see... and how are you doing otherwise."  
  
Willow offered a self-depreciating half smile, "I'm getting better, one day at a time and all that."  
  
"Willow, you must know that we are worried about you. You are still very fragile emotionally and are grieving. I   
  
know that you have no intention of using magic at this time, but I am, we are all, concerned about that being a   
  
possibility."  
  
"Giles," she started to interrupt.  
  
He lifted his hand to stop her. "Let me finish. I'm not proposing anything drastic, such as removing your abilities.   
  
Frankly, I don't know if that is possible at this point. I would like for you to voluntarily submit to a binding ritual   
  
to keep you from accessing those abilities at this time."  
  
"At this time? Giles, if I go through with this, do you honestly ever think there'll be a time when you would be   
  
prepared to release me, to give me back the powers that you see as such a threat?"   
  
"Willow, I can't tell you what will happen and it's not that we don't trust you. The dark magics that were affecting   
  
you have been purged, but you know that knowledge cannot be unlearned. The memories and draw of that   
  
power are still there. What will happen the next time you're vulnerable?"  
  
Willow worried her bottom lip between her teeth as Giles removed his glasses to clean them.  
  
"Can I have some time to think about this?"  
  
"Of course... but, Willow ... don't take too long." He put his glasses back on and looked down at her; then he left   
  
the room.  
  
Willow sat alone in the quiet room and thought about what he offered, her friends, her family.  
  
**********  
  
Chapter 2  
  
Willow wept as she held Tara in her arms. Her love's life-blood soaked the carpet around them in an ever-  
  
widening circle.  
  
"Nooooo!" She cried out in anguish. As she screamed, Tara slowly disappeared, leaving her holding empty air.   
  
"... no, no, no, no, no..." her mind raced over and over. "I can't lose her, got to find her, no, Tara, where are you   
  
baby? Please, please don't leave me Tara, no, where are you, Tara, please, Tara..."  
  
She stood slowly, glancing around, as the color seemed to drain from her surroundings. Everything seemed to   
  
fade to a sickly monochrome. She looked around the empty room and began searching for signs of Tara.   
  
Spinning around she turned and started running through the house. Every night, she searched, hoping but never   
  
finding her lover. Tonight was different.  
  
She looked in Dawn's room and had a brief image of Tara laughing with Dawn as they hung a poster. She   
  
stepped forward over the threshold, reaching for Tara, but she faded like a mirage.   
  
She ran to Buffy's room and Tara was there dressing a wound on Buffy's shoulder. Buffy looked up at her   
  
accusingly and Willow held out her hand, watching the scene quickly disappear into the dreary emptiness that   
  
seemed to be infusing the house.  
  
Room after room she searched the house, haunted by glimpses of Tara and her memories. The house itself   
  
seemed to become darker and emptier, taking on an abandoned feel.  
  
Finally, she entered the kitchen. Like every room she searched, Tara was there, laughing and making banana   
  
pancakes. A single stream of light entered the window, illuminating her.  
  
"Tara," Willow called out and ran to her, hoping this time to catch her. Her hands passed through the beam of   
  
light and met nothingness as Tara disappeared.  
  
"Willow."  
  
Willow spun upon hearing her name and saw Tara had reappeared across the room, opening the door and   
  
descending into the basement.  
  
Willow followed her, slowly walking down the steps into the dark basement, unable to see where she was going.   
  
She remembered her last time down here. It still made her shiver. She couldn't shake the memory of the way   
  
Buffy had attacked them, saying over and over that they weren't real. She hadn't entered the basement since   
  
Buffy had tried to kill them. Tara had even done her laundry for her.   
  
She slowly extended her right foot forward, feeling for each step and finally meeting the floor. She turned in the   
  
darkened expanse and called for Tara.  
  
"Tara," she called again, "Please, I need your help. I don't know if I can do this alone."  
  
Tara appeared before her, surrounded by light. "You're not alone. You're never alone, baby. I'm with you. I'll be   
  
with you always."  
  
Willow rushed toward her, her heart breaking as the light began to flicker. In a bright flash, Tara was no longer   
  
there; instead Cordelia was in her place.  
  
"Hello, Willow."  
  
Cordelia reached out her hand and touched her fingertips to Willow's temple. The world shattered.  
  
**********  
  
Chapter 3  
  
Willow's whole body started to convulse, as her surroundings slowly faded to black. She fell to her knees.   
  
Cordelia stood over her, illuminated by an otherworldly spotlight in the midst of nothingness.  
  
Tears flowed freely down Willow's face as she was once again subjected to all of the fear and pain of humanity.   
  
Images bombarded her consciousness of people suffering, dying, and living. As before, this overwhelmed her,   
  
but this time it was accompanied by a feeling of helplessness that undid her.  
  
She wanted to scream, to protest; she didn't deserve this. Why was this happening? She couldn't. She couldn't   
  
scream, couldn't cry out. The words, the very thoughts were torn from her in waves of anguish. Somewhere   
  
deep down she knew that she deserved this. This was the punishment she had been waiting for.  
  
"Shh..." Cordy comforted her as the images started to fade.  
  
"You know what's out there. You know how much suffering there can be. You can help stop some of it. You can   
  
help them.  
  
"I can no longer hold the visions. I've moved past them now, beyond this plane. You can do what I can't any   
  
more. Someone has to take my place. Fight the good fight.   
  
"I'm not the first and you aren't the last. We're fragile, mortals, but you're strong Willow. You're stronger than   
  
even you know.   
  
"Even now, the magic lives in you. You're holding on by a thread, lost, without direction. I'm here to help you.   
  
I'm here to give you a direction, a purpose. It's our curse, but also our blessing.  
  
"Without an anchor, you will lose yourself again. We can't allow this to happen. The magic you hold will help you   
  
to handle the visions in a way that I couldn't. The pain that you feel will help you to remember who and what   
  
you are fighting for."  
  
Cordy paused and reached down to help Willow to her feet. "I know it's hard, but you can do it. Many lives are at   
  
stake, not just yours, but the people I love. Don't make me regret this."  
  
Cordy embraced her and once again she was bombarded by images. She saw Fred and Gunn. She saw Wesley.   
  
She saw Angel with his infant son, and then sparring with a young man, sparring with Cordelia. She saw Lorne   
  
and Darla and the Groosalug. She felt Cordelia's love for these people, even if she didn't always know who they   
  
were.   
  
She also saw the people in her life. She saw Dawn and Buffy and Xander and Anya. She saw Giles as he lay   
  
dying from her attack. She saw Tara and their last wonderful night together. She watched her die again, and saw   
  
the person she had become.  
  
Speechless, she clung to Cordy and looked into her face. The light bathed them, slowly dissolving Cordelia's   
  
features, and for a moment, it was Tara that held her in her arms.   
  
"You don't know what's to come. It won't be easy. We must each walk our own path and find our own   
  
redemption. Don't forget what you're fighting for and remember, Willow, you're never alone. I am with you and I   
  
love you, no matter what." Tara kissed her softly and Willow woke up.  
  
She sat up in bed, crying out with a sense of loss. Then the tears began to fall, the first she had shed since   
  
Tara's death. The warm wetness revived her and began to wash away some of the darkness that clung to her   
  
soul.  
  
**********  
  
Chapter 4  
  
"Giles, I'm leaving." Willow and Giles were sitting at the table in the Magic Box. Xander was once again working   
  
on the repairs and Anya was assisting a customer.  
  
"When will you be back?"  
  
The scrutiny of her actions was getting to her. She didn't need a babysitter. "I'm not. I mean not any time soon.   
  
I'm going to L.A., Giles."  
  
Giles sat up straighter and tilted his head to the side, examining her. "I'm not sure that would be a good idea,   
  
Willow. This is a difficult time. You haven't yet recovered from what has happened. I don't think this is any time   
  
to be running off."  
  
"I'm not running away, Giles. I have to go. I can't explain it to you, but it's something that I have to do."  
  
Giles sighed. "What about what we talked about? I still think it would be best if you would let me perform the   
  
binding."  
  
"I can't, Giles."  
  
"Willow, please..."  
  
"I need to do this Giles. The magic is part of me. I have to face it and face myself. I know you think it's   
  
irresponsible, but it's not. I'm trying to be responsible, to do what's right. I just... I can't do it here. Not   
  
anymore."  
  
"Great, that's your answer? Run off to L.A. with your big mojo," Buffy interrupted. "Did you forget that you tried   
  
to kill us all not too long ago? You decided you didn't like the way the world was going so you were going to end   
  
it 'for our own good.'  
  
"What's going to happen the next time you decide the rules don't apply to you? Who else is going to pay the   
  
price for standing in your way?"  
  
"Buffy, I know what I did was wrong," Willow tried to explain, only to be interrupted by Buffy snorting in   
  
derision. "Look, I know what I did is wrong, but I'm not the only one to make mistakes. Not that long ago, you   
  
tried to kill us all, too.  
  
"We forgave you for that. Angel killed Ms. Calendar, tortured Giles and tried to send the world to hell and you   
  
forgave him. I'm not asking for forgiveness. All I'm asking is that you trust me enough to let me handle this and   
  
do what is right."  
  
Giles spoke up, as he saw Buffy's temper building. "Willow, as I said, it's not that we don't trust you, but you are   
  
very vulnerable right now and we, as your friends, are trying to protect and help you."  
  
"I do understand, Giles, and I appreciate this, but you can't hold my hand forever. I have to go. There are things   
  
I need to do, and I can't do them from here. Please understand that I have to face this. I am not running away.   
  
I'm trying to make things right. I need to go away for a while to do that."  
  
"Fine, Willow. Go. Run off to L.A. Go see if Angel will take you in like he did Faith. But, so help me, if you can't   
  
do this and you go back there, to that darkness, I will kill you, Willow. I can't take that chance again," Buffy   
  
threatened and then walked away.  
  
Willow sighed sadly, and looked down at her hands. Slowly, she stood and began gathering her things.  
  
Giles watched the young Wiccan begin to walk dejectedly from the store. "Good luck, Willow."  
  
"Thanks. Goodbye, Giles."  
  
**********  
  
Chapter 5  
  
Willow let herself into Cordelia's apartment. Luckily, Dennis had remembered her from her trip last year to tell   
  
them all of Buffy's death. She had gone to Cordy's for coffee and to gossip about Sunnydale. Actually, Cordelia   
  
had pumped her for information and she had entertained the former May Queen. With Sunnydale behind them,   
  
the two had developed an amicable almost-friendship.  
  
Dennis was frantic and had done several things to get her attention, to find out where Cordelia was. She   
  
answered him sadly but truthfully, that she wasn't sure, but that she didn't think that Cordelia would be coming   
  
home any time soon. She was going to stay there in the meantime.  
  
She was unpacking when she heard the knock at the door. Her experience from Sunnydale had taught her better   
  
than to just yell, "Come in," so she left her open suitcases and went to the door. Dennis didn't seem to be   
  
anywhere around, having been despondently silent since she had told him about Cordelia.  
  
She opened the door marginally, and saw Gunn standing there. She opened the door wider and headed toward   
  
the kitchen, figuring that he would follow her. He did.  
  
"Uh, Red, hi. You're a friend of Cordelia's, right? From back home or somethin'?" He looked at Willow, vaguely   
  
recognizing her.  
  
"Yep, I went to school with Cordelia in Sunnydale. I'm Willow, and you're Gunn, right?"  
  
"Yeah. Listen; is Cordelia here? We've been looking for her. She hasn't shown up at work for a while and we   
  
were wondering what's up."  
  
"I'm staying here for a while. Cordelia had to go somewhere. I... I'm not sure when she'll be back. I got a   
  
message to come take care of things for a while."  
  
As she finished speaking, Willow dropped the glass of water she was drinking and started to slide down to the   
  
floor. She gripped the edge of the table and Gunn came around to support her.  
  
When she finally relaxed and began to stand, Gunn released her and went to stand on the other side of the table.  
  
"So... you get visions, too, huh? They hand out the party pack to you guys or something?"   
  
Willow looked at him sadly and shook her head, groaning at the cascade effect started by the movement.  
  
"Not too, huh? You get Cordy's visions. How did you get Cordy's visions? Where the hell is she?" He demanded.  
  
"Later, please... big, scaly demon... little kids... pre-school, Martin Street... I'll tell you what I know later. Help   
  
them."  
  
Gunn left the room and returned with a bottle of aspirin from the bathroom. "Cordelia took these. I'm going, but   
  
I'll be back."  
  
Willow put her head on the table and groaned, as Dennis brought her a glass of water and a few aspirin out of   
  
the bottle. When she had taken them, she could hear the sounds of him sweeping up the mess she had made   
  
moments before. This was something he knew how to handle. Unfortunately, Willow didn't know if she could say   
  
the same. The visions, the new responsibilities, the pain and the idea of all that she had lost overwhelmed her.   
  
She cried.   
  
A little while later, Willow got up and put the coffee pot on. She didn't know if it was from the visions or her bout   
  
with magic, but she had begun to get these feelings, when things were about to happen.  
  
Just as the coffee had finished brewing and she had set out three cups, there was another knock at the door. It   
  
was Gunn and the quiet brunette that she didn't really know, but recognized as Fred.  
  
They all sat down at the table and began to sip the coffee. Fred shifted nervously in her chair, while Gunn stared   
  
at her accusingly.   
  
She told them what she knew. "Cordelia called me. Well, she visited me in a dream. She said something about   
  
moving beyond the visions and she gave them to me. She told me to come here and to help you guys. She   
  
showed me some of what has been going on and said you needed my help, that I needed to help you."  
  
"She was just gone. She called Angel and he went to meet her. We haven't seen either of them since. Even   
  
Connor bailed."  
  
"Connor?"  
  
"Angel's son. Some freaky shit went down and if you ask me, he's right in the middle of it. Anyway, they're all   
  
gone. It's just Fred and me. And, well, now you.   
  
"But, I have to tell you, I don't know how we can do this. You get the visions, great, but you don't look like much   
  
of a fighter and Fred isn't either. So that just leaves me, and I ain't no Angel. We're going to need some help if   
  
we are going to keep this up. You know what I mean?"  
  
"What about Wesley? I thought he was helping you? I saw him in my vision."  
  
"Wes isn't around any more. Some of that shit I mentioned before... Well, a lot of it involved Wesley. He's kind   
  
of persona non grata, around here."  
  
"That's not good enough. We need him, so unless you can give me a good reason not to, I'm going to call him."  
  
"He won't come," Fred spoke up quietly. "He took Connor away to try and protect him, because there was this   
  
prophecy, only it wasn't really a prophecy, it was some demon trying to make us think there was a prophecy,   
  
and he took Connor and didn't tell anyone and almost got killed and then Angel did try to kill him, so he's mad   
  
and nobody will talk to him."   
  
Willow smiled and wondered if that is what she looked like when she babbled. "He'll help. I'll make sure he   
  
knows he doesn't have a choice. I can't do this alone; we can't do this alone."  
  
"You are never alone," Tara's voice whispered comfortingly inside Willow's head.  
  
********** 


	2. Chapters 6 through 10

Chapter 6  
  
  
  
Willow stood outside Wesley's door shifting from foot to foot as she gathered her courage and firmly donned her   
  
"resolve face."  
  
  
  
She knocked.  
  
  
  
She waited. She could feel him in there and knew he was home. She knocked again.  
  
  
  
"Go away," a low growl responded from the other side of the door.  
  
  
  
She knocked again.  
  
  
  
This time she heard the chain and locks disengage. Wesley opened the door enough to see who was on the other   
  
side.  
  
  
  
"Willow. What are you doing here?"  
  
  
  
She took advantage of his surprise to push past him into the apartment.  
  
  
  
"Hello, Wesley. Good to see you too." She took in the cluttered living room. A newspaper was scattered on the   
  
coffee table, at least one section had fallen to the floor. There was an empty crystal decanter and a half full   
  
bottle of scotch with a dirty glass on the end table. A copy of Dante's Inferno lay open beside them.  
  
  
  
Willow took the chair closest to the one being used and sat down, relaxing, extending her legs and watched   
  
Wesley.  
  
  
  
"Make yourself as home," he stated sarcastically.  
  
  
  
Willow said nothing and just watched to see what he would do, trying to get a read on the situation. Fred and   
  
Gunn had briefed her on what they knew of what had happened, but Willow knew that what others around you   
  
see isn't always the full story.  
  
  
  
"So, are you going to tell me what you are doing here, or are you going to just sit there and stare?"  
  
  
  
Willow tried tact first, appealing to the man that she hoped still lived inside him. "We need your help, Wesley."  
  
  
  
"Well, I am not really in the business of helping people anymore. I'm afraid you shall have to look elsewhere."  
  
  
  
"Don't you even want to know who needs your help and why?"  
  
  
  
"Not particularly," he responded in a droll, gravely tone.  
  
  
  
"That's too bad," Willow responded, "because I'm going to tell you anyway.  
  
  
  
"I need your help. Gunn, Fred and I need your help."  
  
  
  
He started to interrupt and she stared at him, resolve face firmly in place. He sat back and motioned for her to   
  
continue, then poured himself a drink.  
  
  
  
"Angel is missing and Cordelia is gone. I was sent here in her place and right now it's just the three of us and we   
  
could really use your help. We can't handle the visions alone. We need another fighter. It doesn't hurt that you   
  
have more knowledge of demons and the books than all of us put together."  
  
  
  
"I can't help you."  
  
  
  
"Why not? Are you too busy feeling sorry for yourself? 'Cause I've been there, you know. It doesn't help. It just   
  
leads to trouble, big trouble."  
  
  
  
He looked at her and raised his eyebrow slightly, then toasted her with his glass. "I wish you all the best, good   
  
luck."  
  
  
  
"Dammit, Wesley. Do you think that you're the only one with something to feel guilty about? You at least tried to   
  
protect your friends, the ones that you love. I tried to kill mine! I flayed a man alive with a thought, after I   
  
tortured him, and I did it all while my friends watched in horror. Then, for good measure, I tried to end the   
  
world.   
  
  
  
"You think you have a monopoly on guilt? Hell, or even the self-righteousness that given the same   
  
circumstances that you would do it all over again, because you did it for them?  
  
  
  
"You'll deal with it and you'll get off your ass and help us. You'll do it again because there's no one else and we'll   
  
die without you. You'll do it because just maybe they'll punish you enough that you'll no longer feel that you   
  
have to do it yourself."  
  
  
  
"Get out of my house," Wesley spoke in a quiet, deceptively even voice as he examined the amber liquid in his   
  
glass.  
  
  
  
"Fine, I'm leaving, but you'll help us. You'll do it for the same reason I did, Wesley. You'll do it, because there is   
  
no other choice."  
  
  
  
***********  
  
Chapter 7  
  
Willow met Gunn and Fred back at the hotel. Gunn was sharpening weapons while Fred was sitting behind the   
  
counter, resting her elbows on the top, her chin in her hands. She was fidgeting and talking to Gunn. She   
  
glanced up expectantly when the doors opened. Willow could almost see her face fall in disappointment.  
  
"So, what's up with English -- he coming or what?"  
  
Willow frowned and sighed.  
  
"I knew it," Gunn responded to her dejection.  
  
Willow opened her mouth to respond and cried out as a spear of pain rammed its way into her head. When she   
  
fought her way back to daylight, Gunn was kneeling beside her and Fred was fluttering nervously near her,   
  
asking if she was still alive.   
  
"Demons -- four of them. They were attacking an old couple in their home. Looking for something. You're going   
  
to need help."  
  
"No offense, Red, but you really think you're up to that?"  
  
"Doesn't matter. We can do this, Gunn. We have to. All of us," she looked pointedly at Fred, who quietly nodded   
  
her head in agreement.  
  
They quickly gathered their weapons and worked out a basic plan based on what Willow had seen in her vision.   
  
They were just outside the doors when Willow spoke up.  
  
"Hold on a minute guys, I forgot something. Wait here. I'll be right back." She disappeared back into the lobby   
  
and then joined them again moments later. She ignored Gunn's quizzical expression and continued out onto the   
  
sidewalk.   
  
They arrived at the house just in time to see one of the demons attack the old woman. The other three were   
  
tearing up the house, apparently searching for whatever it was they had come for. Gunn distracted the demons   
  
by attacking the one closest to the fireplace with his hubcap axe and killing it. Willow moved in to hit the one   
  
that was terrorizing the couple, by attacking it with her sword. The remaining two rushed Gunn when they saw   
  
their comrade fall.  
  
"Fred -- get them out of here," Willow shouted.  
  
The shy physicist stuttered a bit as she convinced the couple to follow her outside. They ran off and Fred   
  
returned to join her friends.  
  
One of the two demons that Gunn had been holding off saw Fred remove their prey and went after her to recover   
  
them. The remaining demon stepped up his attack on Gunn.  
  
Willow was still fighting with the leader and had managed to cut it in a few places that were now oozing a   
  
greenish-blue fluid.  
  
Fred was cornered just inside the doorway. The sword she was carrying was knocked from her hand.  
  
Willow was knocked down, landing on her backside. She managed to keep a hold on her sword and thrust it   
  
upward, skewering the monster. As she did, an inhuman scream filled the room. She did a double take at the   
  
demon she had just killed before realizing it came from across the room.  
  
"Fred!" Gunn shouted, still locked in a fight with the largest of the demons when he saw Fred being held in front   
  
of the demon by the door, his forearm across her throat as she was held hostage against its large torso.  
  
The demon grunted and tightened his hold on her throat, causing a strangled squeak to escape her. Gunn's   
  
opponent took advantage of his distraction and sliced his arm with a large claw. Willow tried to move   
  
surreptitiously to remove her sword from the belly of the dead demon.  
  
Light flashed through the room, glinting off steel, as the demon holding Fred was suddenly beheaded. Gunn   
  
turned in rage and killed his opponent, before turning back to Fred.  
  
She turned in the doorway and hugged Wesley, whose double-bladed axe hung limply at his side. He stood   
  
stoically meeting Gunn's eyes.  
  
Gunn looked at him and nodded slowly in acknowledgement, then bent down to pick up his own axe. He then   
  
went to Willow and reached out his hand, pulling her to her feet.  
  
The four of them turned toward the door and stepped into the dawn, walking toward the rising sun, together.  
  
**********  
  
Chapter 8  
  
Wesley joined them all at the hotel the next day around lunchtime. There were circles, like dark bruises under his   
  
eyes and he moved with the careful movements of one suffering from a hangover. The scar stood out angrily on   
  
his neck, but he was freshly shaved. He looked generally better than he had when Willow visited his apartment.  
  
Sensing his need for it, Willow brought him a cup of coffee, preparing it as she had seen him do, in the late night   
  
study sessions for dealing with the mayor, long ago and far away. He sipped the fortifying brew and gave her a   
  
wan smile.   
  
She moved to sit in the chair across from him, crossing her legs on the large cushion and resting a notebook in   
  
her lap. Gunn and Fred sat close together on the couch.  
  
"I guess we need to talk about what we're going to do now. I've told you guys some of what I know about Cordy,   
  
but there seem to be a lot of questions left unanswered. And she isn't the only one missing."  
  
"There were two people I saw in my vision that you mentioned, Lorne and the Groosalug? They seem to have left   
  
on their own.   
  
"That leaves Angel and Connor."  
  
"Connor's missing?" Wesley asked. "Are you sure?"  
  
"Yeah, Wes, he disappeared the same night as Angel. Boy was acting weird, too."  
  
"Maybe he and Angel decided to go off and spend some time together, you know, getting to know each other   
  
better? Maybe they went out to the movies and had tacos and they'll be home really soon," Fred offered,   
  
hopefully.  
  
Her half smile was almost painful, as her face showed that she didn't really believe this. The rest of the group   
  
offered her sympathetic smiles.   
  
Willow answered half-heartedly, "Maybe."  
  
"Things were getting better though. Connor -- Stephen -- Jungle Boy -- whatever-you-call-him had stopped   
  
trying to kill Angel and moved in all nice. Apparently, Holtz decided to make nice and wrote the dude a letter   
  
saying that Connor should hang with Angel and that he was going away.  
  
"They were making nice with the father-son bonding and beating up Fred and me in a bit of let's-be-like-the-old-  
  
man sparring." Gunn shrugged.  
  
"Holtz wrote a letter, saying that Conner should stay with Angel and that he was leaving?" Wesley asked,   
  
incredulously.  
  
"That's what Angel said. The boy was whack, but he was playing house and seemed to accept the story."  
  
"Indeed.  
  
"I knew Holtz," Wesley acknowledged wryly, "and I must admit that doesn't sound quite like his style." Wesley   
  
mulled over this information, then frowned and stood up. "Excuse me, I have to go out for a while."   
  
"But we haven't finished our discussion, Wesley," Willow objected, "and we still haven't figured out what   
  
happened to Angel."  
  
"That is why I'm going. I think I may know where to find some answers."  
  
"Where?" Willow asked.  
  
"I am going to go see an old friend."  
  
**********  
  
Chapter 9  
  
Willow lay down with an uneasy feeling. The nightmares that had plagued her almost nightly in Sunnydale had   
  
not been as frequent or severe since she had come to L.A. On the other hand, there was the trade-off of   
  
surround sound, digitally mastered visions with special effects that would leave the creators of The Matrix dizzy.  
  
She was worried about Wesley. Actually, she worried about them all. Fred and Gunn obviously had each other.   
  
Wesley had no one, a lot like herself. She was finding that he was "a lot like her" in more ways than she had   
  
thought.  
  
"Hekate, protect him. Watch over him and light his path on whatever journey he is on this night," she whispered   
  
the prayer. She added a post-script that they all be watched over on the journey that lay ahead.   
  
That was her last thought before she slept.  
  
The dream was different tonight. Tonight, the house was once again empty, but she paused in front of the front   
  
door. The empty house no longer held her. She opened the door and stepped outside. She walked down the   
  
concrete walkway, as it slowly gave way to warm desert sands.  
  
Day became night and the temperature dropped. A full moon rose overhead. She walked on, drawn to a   
  
shimmering fire in the distance. As she drew closer to the fire, she saw a figure sitting on a large flat rock,   
  
tending the flames, and occasionally gazing up to the moon.  
  
"Oz," she spoke in quiet confusion as she drew near the campsite.  
  
"Hello, Willow." He lifted his chin to refer to their surroundings. "It's not exactly Istanbul."  
  
"Why are you here?"  
  
"Don't know," he shrugged. "I guess you needed me."  
  
He scooted over and Willow sat beside him. She picked up a stray stick and began poking at the fire as well,   
  
letting herself be drawn in by the flickering heat. They sat in quiet companionship.  
  
"I really messed up this time, Oz."  
  
He nodded, his face showing silent sympathy.  
  
"I don't know what happened. When did it all get so out of control?"  
  
"You remember when I came back to Sunnydale?" He looked at her and she nodded affirmatively.  
  
"Now, I thought I had the wolf thing under control. The moon was full and I was still Oz." He gestured toward   
  
himself to demonstrate. "But it was like, an illusion. I mean, I was Oz, but I was also the wolf.  
  
"There was this test. I saw you and you were with Tara, and suddenly, I wasn't Oz. I was the wolf. But, that was   
  
an illusion too.  
  
"'Cause maybe I'm not Oz and I'm not the wolf, and I couldn't choose to be Oz because I loved you.  
  
"I'm both.  
  
"Maybe it's the same with you and Tara or the gang. You can't be good Willow or bad Willow. You can just be   
  
'Willow.'"  
  
Oz sat back and began poking at the fire again. He had said what he had wanted to say, imparted his Oz-  
  
wisdom, and was now silent, leaving her to mull over his words.  
  
She turned to him, unable to formulate an answer. He looked back at her and spoke. "It's time to go. Goodbye,   
  
Willow."  
  
He slowly faded away, the fire dying and disappearing with him. She was left cold and alone, sitting on the large   
  
flat rock.  
  
She stood and brushed off the seat of her jeans. She watched in confusion as the moon set over the great   
  
expanse of sand. The sun began its return and she walked toward its rising glory.  
  
The sun was blinding, but she stumbled on. The seemingly endless barren expanse gave way to cushioning green   
  
grass. She walked on, through trees and flowers, to a lush meadow.  
  
In the center of that meadow, Tara sat comfortably on a plaid blanket. A small deer stood near her and licked   
  
softly at her outstretched hand. Her face shone in happiness and child-like laughter. She was as beautiful as   
  
Willow could possibly remember. Willow slowly moved forward, willing the tableau not to fade. A small twig   
  
cracked underfoot and the deer darted away.  
  
"Hello, Willow."  
  
Willow started at the unexpected welcome and moved to sit on the blanket opposite Tara. She moved carefully,   
  
skittish that the vision would once again disappear.  
  
Tara smiled and picked up the flowers in her lap. She began weaving them together into a daisy chain. "Do you   
  
remember this place, Willow?"  
  
Willow blushed and nodded. She had invited Tara along for a picnic and they had made love for hours in the   
  
clearing, until the sun had set and the moon had risen to shine down on them.  
  
"It was so simple then. I loved you, you loved me, and that was all that mattered."  
  
"I still love you," Willow offered fervently.  
  
"I know, Willow." She blushed slightly, even in this otherworldly form. "I always knew. I love you too. I always   
  
did and always will.  
  
"Something else changed. We stopped trusting each other with that love. I think it happened when we lost Buffy.   
  
You didn't come to me when things got out of hand, because you were afraid of losing me. You didn't want to   
  
admit that you couldn't handle it. Deep down, I think you even thought that if you didn't have that power, I   
  
wouldn't be with you. But, that's not true. You know that's not true.  
  
"I had doubts and insecurities as well. I wondered what you saw in me, what I had ever done to deserve you. I   
  
let things happen, watched you get lost, rather than losing you.  
  
"We were both wrong, but not about love. Love is never wrong. Love is what makes life worth living. I love you,   
  
Willow but my time is past. I'm gone, but you aren't. You still have to live and to love."  
  
Tears ran down Willow's face as she listened to her shy girlfriend's heartfelt speech. Tara always spoke from the   
  
heart. It was one of the things Willow loved about her. She knew that Tara spoke the truth.  
  
Tara wrapped Willow in her embrace. Willow clung to the blonde and wept. She cried for her mistakes and then   
  
cried for her blessings. She felt the love that she had shared with this wonderful woman and her broken heart   
  
started to mend. She started to let go, knowing that she would always carry a part of this love with her, and that   
  
no one could ever take that from her.  
  
Finally, her sobs quieted and she rested peacefully in Tara's lap. The quiet witch stroked her hair comfortingly.   
  
The sounds of the meadow slowly returned to them and Willow gazed up into her lover's face. "I love you, Tara."  
  
Tara smiled radiantly and bent down to place a soft kiss on Willow's brow. "Goodbye, Willow."  
  
Willow sat up and watched Tara fade away. She wiped her tears away and smoothed back her hair. She still   
  
mourned Tara's loss, but now held a new peace.  
  
She stood up and looked around. Then, she picked up the blanket they had been laying on and carefully folded it   
  
up. She reverently placed it at the base of a nearby tree, knowing it would be there should she ever need to visit   
  
this place again.  
  
She walked on. The ground underfoot changed from grass to packed dirt. Small stones littered the path and   
  
protruded from the worn, traveled ground. The trees closed in, their branches forming a tight canopy, until they   
  
were no longer trunks and leaves enclosing her, but stone walls. Ahead she could see a light.  
  
She emerged on a small inlet beach. It was surrounded by the stone face of a cliff had been worn away over   
  
time, creating small caves, like the one she had just exited.   
  
Cordelia stood in the middle of the small beach. She was wearing a blue-green bikini and the incoming waves   
  
were licking at her toes. She could have been anywhere, lounging and working on her tan, except she stood on   
  
the deserted sand, no radio, no towel, no suntan lotion, just gazing out toward the ever-encroaching sea. The   
  
look on her face seemed to be one of longing.  
  
Without turning, she spoke. "You're lucky, you know. You get to say goodbye. They knew how you felt and they   
  
loved you back.  
  
"They say life is short. Pffft. Life is only short when you have love. Otherwise, it seems to drag on forever. But,   
  
when you're in love - there's never enough time. Every moment, every second seems to fly by, sliding through   
  
your fingers like so many grains of sand." She gestured around her to illustrate her point.  
  
Willow walked up to where Cordelia was standing, still looking out toward the horizon. The water now lapped at   
  
her ankles.  
  
Finally, Cordelia looked at her. "You've just begun. There is so much ahead of you still. There is so much that   
  
you still have to do, so much life, so much love." Cordelia smiled down at her, "Good luck, Willow." She turned   
  
and began walking toward the incoming wave, sliding deeper and deeper into the ocean.  
  
Willow stood in confusion, and then looked back at noises that seemed to be coming from behind her. She turned   
  
toward the caves and the sounds of an apparent battle that seemed to be coming from one of them. She   
  
wondered why she hadn't heard it before and wandered curiously toward it.  
  
Flames danced on the cave walls, obscuring, rather than illuminating, the dark scene. There was a figure inside,   
  
fighting with a shadowy opponent. He cried out, and for a moment, she almost recognized him. She tried to rush   
  
forward to help him.  
  
A large, gray demon appeared to black her way. He held a large arm out in front of her shoulders lightly, keeping   
  
her from entering the cave, but making no move to restrain or hurt her. She kicked at its shins and he tilted his   
  
head to the side to look down at her, like an adult asking a child what exactly they thought they were doing.  
  
"I can't let you in there, seer. Everyone must fight their own battles in their own time. This is not your fight."  
  
She thought about what he said and stopped struggling. "Why does he have to go through this alone?"  
  
Skip looked down at her amused. "Whoever said he was alone?"  
  
For a brief moment, the cave was partly illuminated and she saw Wesley fighting a dark figure. They were   
  
surrounded by a small group of people. She gasped as she recognized herself. Fred and Gunn stood next to her.  
  
**********  
  
Chapter 10  
  
Wesley walked into the headquarters of the rogue band that had been working with Holtz. He shivered a bit at   
  
the thought of returning here. Angel and Lilah's words rang in his head, but Fred's haunted him the most.  
  
"I thought what Angel tried to do to you was wrong - and I'm sorry. - But he was right to blame you, Wesley.   
  
You should have come to us. You should have trusted us instead of going to Holtz behind our back. You're   
  
supposed to be our friend and you didn't even..."  
  
Wesley squared his shoulders and stepped into the dimly lit room. A young thug stepped up to Wesley, pressing   
  
a baseball bat against his chest.  
  
Wesley quietly spoke, "Hello, Justine."  
  
"Well, well. You are the last person I expected to see here." Justine motioned to the young man. "Let him go."  
  
Wesley smiled, in a way that didn't quite temper the hatred in his eyes. "Yes, well, I didn't assume that I would   
  
be making your acquaintance again so soon either. Let's dispense with the small talk, shall we? I want to see   
  
Holtz."  
  
"You haven't heard? Holtz is dead. Your pet vampire killed him."  
  
"I'm sure that Angel did no such thing. You forget, I know first hand of your way of manipulating situations to   
  
your advantage."  
  
"Yeah, I guess you do. Tell me Wesley, what were you thinking of as you lay there dying? Did you think the   
  
vampire would come save you? After you betrayed him and your friends and took his son, you still thought he   
  
would come running to your rescue, didn't you?  
  
"Because he has a soul? A lot of good that does him now," she laughed. "He is still a demon, still a monster."  
  
"What did you do to him?" Wesley spit out the words accusingly.  
  
"Me? I didn't do anything. I just helped him get what was coming to him. I helped Holtz get his revenge. I helped   
  
him die knowing that Angel would get his. That monster would pay for what he did to Holtz's family and for my   
  
sister."  
  
"Your sister?"  
  
"A vampire killed her, a monster just like your friend."  
  
"Angel didn't kill your sister and he didn't kill Holtz."  
  
"It doesn't matter. The boy did better than kill your friend; he made him suffer: just like Holtz suffered, just like   
  
I suffer.  
  
"I didn't think I could do it. I pressed that ice pick against his neck and watched his eyes beg me to do it. It was   
  
even easier than slitting your throat. It was worth it. It was worth it because now I have my revenge and so   
  
does Holtz."  
  
"Noooooo"! Connor screamed and ran in from where he had been hiding and listening, unnoticed by Justine. He   
  
grabbed and attacking her. "No! You killed him! You killed my father!"   
  
Wesley moved forward to stop Connor as he pulled a knife from his boot. He was about to kill Justine and he   
  
couldn't let that happen, no matter how much he wanted the vindictive bitch dead.  
  
"Stop! Don't do this, Connor. Don't! It won't bring him back. Trust me, it never brings them back. She'll pay for   
  
what she did, but not this way. If you kill her, you will be no better than her. She doesn't deserve that mercy."   
  
He held tight to Connor, while pushing Justine to the ground. Several of Holtz's former gang ran into the room at   
  
the commotion.  
  
"She doesn't have to win. Tell me where Angel is. Tell me what you did to him. Where is he?" Wesley asked   
  
angrily.  
  
"No! I won't help him." Connor slammed his foot into Wesley's shin and pulled free from his hold. He ran past   
  
Justine's troops and disappeared out a side door.  
  
Wesley turned to Justine. "Make no mistake. I didn't do this for you. It's not over between us. I would advise you   
  
to stay the hell away from my friends and me. I may not be so magnanimous a third time, " he said in cryptic   
  
warning as he turned to leave, staring down the one guy who tried to block his exit.  
  
Wesley could see Connor running down the street. The young boy had too far of a head start for him to catch   
  
him. Suddenly, a black limousine stopped in front of the boy and two utility vehicles boxed him in from the sides.  
  
Men in commando outfits jumped down from the vehicles and grabbed the boy. They shoved him into the car.   
  
Wesley swore that he could see Gavin Park's grin even at that distance.  
  
********** 


	3. Chapters 11 through 15

Chapter 11  
  
Willow fought her way back to consciousness as the pounding on her door increased in urgency.  
  
Wesley, looking disheveled and angry, stood outside her door. She looked at the bright red numbers on the clock   
  
in the living room and back at Wesley. "It's one o'clock," she said wearily, still disoriented by her dream. "What's   
  
going on?"  
  
"Get dressed. We're going to the hotel. I'll call and let them know we're on the way."  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"I'll fill you in later. Let's do hurry."  
  
"Fine." Willow turned and walked down the hall to the bedroom.  
  
Wesley watched her walk away and sighed. He picked up the phone and dialed the number to Fred's room,   
  
instinctively knowing to try there first.  
  
His instincts were confirmed when Gunn answered the phone. "Hello," he barked out, obviously awoken from   
  
sleep.  
  
"This is Wesley. Willow and I are on the way over. Could you and Fred please meet us downstairs? We have a   
  
problem."  
  
"Demon? Should we gear up?"  
  
"Wolfram and Hart. We'll discuss it when we get there."  
  
"A'ight. See you soon." Gunn hung up the phone and smiled as he looked at Fred, sleeping peacefully against his   
  
chest. He rubbed his eyes, and then carefully shook her awake.  
  
Meanwhile, Willow rejoined Wesley in the living room. He looked her up and down, noticing her tight jeans and   
  
peasant blouse and nodded in approval.  
  
"Let's go," he said grasping his keys and moving past her. He opened the door and paused, then stepped back   
  
out of her way, politely indicating for her to proceed first.  
  
No sarcastic remark or regal stance suggested it was her due, as would have been the case with Cordelia. Willow   
  
seemed oblivious to the courtesy, as she walked casually out the door, and then turned to look expectantly at   
  
him.  
  
Wesley cleared his throat, drawing his gaze away from her denim-encased hips, back to her eyes, and jerked his   
  
head toward the street. "This way."  
  
He stepped in front of his motorcycle and started to climb on. Willow nervously looked at the motorcycle and at   
  
Wesley as he handed her a bright pink helmet.  
  
"What's wrong? Have you never ridden a motorcycle before?" Willow blushed and shook her head. "It's easy, just   
  
hold on and try to relax with me into the turns. You'll do fine."  
  
Willow nodded again and shoved the helmet onto her head, willing her face to return to its normal color. She slid   
  
behind Wesley and wrapped her hands daintily around his waist.  
  
He reached down and clasped her hands in one of his, squeezing reassuringly, before kicking the bike into   
  
motion.  
  
She clung to him as the machine roared beneath their thighs, eating up the miles between Cordelia's apartment   
  
and the hotel. She could feel the muscles of his abdomen under her hands and his legs against hers as he   
  
expertly guided the motorcycle around curves and turns. Despite the danger inherent in the ride, she felt   
  
strangely safe and yet exhilarated as the night air rushed forward to greet them.  
  
They arrived shortly to the hotel where Wesley braked and killed the engine. They sat there for a moment before   
  
he removed his helmet and turned to assist her off the bike. She waited for him to secure the helmets and   
  
dismount. They walked into the Hyperion together.  
  
Fred and Gunn were waiting on the couch. Willow could hear them playfully teasing each other.  
  
"Yes, you do..." Gunn leaned over and kissed Fred's nose.  
  
"Nu-uh, do not," Fred countered, pushing Gunn away and giggling when he held onto her and leaned over to   
  
place another random kiss.   
  
Wesley cleared his throat and Gunn looked up, at first surprised. His expression soon morphed into one of   
  
militant defensiveness as Fred scrambled to sit upright, her knees tucked to her chest. Her head dipped down so   
  
that her hair covered the reddened innocence of her expression.  
  
Willow looked up at Wesley, his expression shedding new light on the dynamics of the situation. She filed the   
  
information away for future scrutiny.  
  
When they were all seated, they waited curiously for Wesley to tell them why he had called this meeting.  
  
"What's up, English?" Gunn asked, like all of them, wanting to know what they had given up their sleep for.  
  
"It's Wolfram and Hart. They've kidnapped Connor - and he knows where Angel is."  
  
**********  
  
Chapter 12  
  
They all sat in stunned silence for a moment before exploding in a million questions.  
  
Gunn took the floor from the ladies, as they retreated from the sheer energy of his voice. "What do you mean he   
  
knows where Angel is and what the hell does Wolfram and Hart want with him now?"  
  
"Apparently Holtz is dead and Justine convinced Connor that Angel did the deed. She said that Connor tortured   
  
him, but implied that he was still alive and suffering."  
  
Gunn swore. "What makes you think you can trust her?"  
  
"Connor seemed to confirm what she said when he attacked her. However, Gavin Park got a hold of him before I   
  
could question him further.  
  
"We need to get him back."  
  
"How do we do that?" Fred asked. "We don't know where they took him."  
  
Wesley turned to Willow and lifted an eyebrow questioningly.  
  
Willow broke out in a cold sweat, her palms dampening as she squeezed her folded hands together. She thought   
  
about the magic. She thought of her dream, of Oz's words and of Tara's. She thought of her words to Giles. "The   
  
magic is part of me. I have to face it and face myself."  
  
To herself, she said, "I can do this." Aloud, she repeated, "I can do this. I can find Connor with a locator spell."  
  
Fred and Gunn looked at her surprised, both a little wary and unaccustomed to magic. It was Wesley who spoke   
  
up, supporting Willow and trying to set her at ease. "What do you need?"   
  
When the ingredients had been assembled, Willow sat on the floor, cross-legged, a large map in front of her. In   
  
her hands, she held a mortar that contained a reddish powder. She sprinkled the powder on the map with her   
  
right hand. Fred watched, carefully hidden on the couch, peeking over the back to see Willow perform the spell.   
  
Gunn was polishing a sword, trying to ignore the proceeding. Wesley observed intently, sensing the energy   
  
around the young witch and hoped for all of their sakes that they were doing the right thing.  
  
Willow finished chanting and laid the bowl aside. She spoke carefully and passed her hand a few inches over the   
  
paper. The red powder skittered away as if blown by a breeze. Only one small spot remained. Willow held her   
  
hand over it and tried to get an impression of the location.  
  
"It's a large room, like an office, but with monitors, televisions, lots of them. There are people, a long table."  
  
Wesley looked over at the map, trying to read the location. "Wolfram and Hart, the offices - a conference room,   
  
maybe?"  
  
Willow nodded in agreement.  
  
Gunn spoke up. "We're going to need a plan. Angel usually handles Fort Knox."  
  
"Gunn's right. Security is quite tight in that place. We need a way in and ultimately, a way out. We need to be   
  
prepared for anything and we need to get Connor out and do it quickly."  
  
"They don't know Willow," Fred offered shyly, having moved quietly toward them when they began planning.  
  
"True," Willow conceded, "but I think it's going to take all of us." She looked at Fred appraisingly. "Besides, a few   
  
changes and they won't know you either."  
  
"So what's the plan?" Gunn asked.  
  
"We walk right in the front door," Willow smiled wickedly.  
  
**********  
  
Chapter 13  
  
Willow followed Wesley up to the roof. He was standing at the edge, watching the sun come up. She handed him   
  
one of the cups of coffee she carried and sipped slowly at hers.  
  
"Sorry, it's decaf. I'm a no-caf kind of girl. Makes me jumpy. Jumpy's not a good thing right now."  
  
Wesley nodded. "Decaf's fine."  
  
"So, I thought we agreed to get some rest - storming the enemy gates later - and all that."  
  
"Yes, well, I don't feel much like sleeping."  
  
"Yeah, doubt Fred and Gunn are sleeping either."  
  
This earned her a sharp look from Wesley. She remembered the earlier exchange and spoke up. "They seem   
  
good for each other. There's an innocence about them, even Gunn with his tough exterior. They've never really   
  
known the darkness. At least not like us, which is kind of incredible when you think of what they do, the battles   
  
they face on a daily basis.  
  
"That innocence can be very appealing," Willow continued, "Especially when your own reality has become so   
  
dark. The trick is to acknowledge it, support it, whatever, without smothering it. You can't hold onto the light in   
  
someone else because you've lost your own. You both lose that way."  
  
Willow had a far away look in her eyes. "You need to find another way to feel the light, maybe with someone else   
  
who is looking for it as well, and create your own."  
  
Wesley turned away from the rising sun to look at her speculatively. He lifted his glass in mock salute, as he had   
  
that day in is apartment. "Here's to the light.  
  
"Now, what do you say we go kick a little ass, first?"  
  
Willow smiled and followed him off the roof and downstairs to the lobby.  
  
Fred and Gunn were waiting for them there. "We couldn't sleep," Fred offered apologetically, flightily pacing   
  
around the room.  
  
"It's okay, Fred, I think we're all ready to go," Willow said, looking back up the stairs to Wesley, who stood   
  
above her.  
  
He placed his hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently.  
  
Willow searched Cordelia's closet at the hotel and found a nice, tailored skirt and jacket in black, along with a   
  
pale peach shell. They had also found stockings and heels. Once Willow pulled Fred's hair into an elegant French   
  
twist and applied a little make-up, the young physicist looked like a whole new woman, or at least a young   
  
associate of a prestigious law firm.  
  
They also raided Angel's closet, looking for something that would fit their young warrior. They decided on a pair   
  
of tailored pants, a white shirt, and dark tie. The outfit had been a source of frustration and amusement, when   
  
Gun declared, "Angel may be able to pull off the whole leather pants and silk shirt, or velvet 'king of the night'   
  
look, but my name isn't Angel or Michael Jackson and I refuse to look like some 70's pimp daddy reject."   
  
Fred and Willow had promptly dissolved into giggles, while Wesley cleared his throat and kept looking. Willow   
  
thought she might have seen his shoulders shaking as he buried his head in the closet to keep searching.  
  
Wesley took no pains to disguise his appearance, having explained to the group, in as few words as possible, his   
  
offer from Lilah. She would be their unwitting ally in their mission.  
  
Willow, after being informed of the nature of the enemy's stronghold, decided to go as herself as well, but with a   
  
slight twist. She played up the aura of magic surrounding her. Her diminished recall of recent events helped lend   
  
to the illusion that she may be trying to hide them. She reeked of dark magic. She wore dark glasses to hide her   
  
sparkling clear eyes. She could be a prospective client or ally.  
  
When they arrived at the offices, Wesley entered first. He stopped at the front desk and was escorted to Lilah's   
  
office.  
  
Willow waited quietly in the park outside. She shushed the other two, as she listened quietly through the bond   
  
she had with Wesley. As he had predicted, Lilah was taking him to Connor. Her belief in his anger and alienation,   
  
combined with her pique at being left out of the mission to capture the boy had left her reckless.   
  
Willow broke the connection and turned to Fred. "They're on the seventeenth floor. Relax; act like you belong. If   
  
you don't act like you're doing something wrong, no one else will either."  
  
Fred took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. She clutched at the soft-sided briefcase she carried. Gunn   
  
fell into step beside her. She began talking about the portal to Pylea, how it worked, the physics behind it and   
  
how she had discovered it. Wesley had suggested the topic, pointing out that she would be more relaxed and   
  
less self-conscious with the familiar topic. It would also pass for acceptable conversation at the strange firm.  
  
Willow waited until they were in the elevator before entering the building. She walked up to the desk. "Gavin   
  
Park," she said smokily.  
  
"May I ask who's calling?" the secretary inquired.  
  
"No, you may not," Willow answered, letting her aura bristle around her.  
  
"One moment," the secretary pressed a button and spoke to another secretary.  
  
"He's in a meeting, right now, but if you'd like to wait, someone will be with you shortly."  
  
"No, I don't think I would," Willow answered, smoke filled the lobby and she appeared to vanish before the   
  
startled woman's eyes.  
  
She headed quickly for the stairs and glided quickly up to the appropriate floor. She could feel the alarm that had   
  
been raised as she came upon Gunn and Fred. She was glad that the illusion she had used had worked.  
  
She reached out and put a hand on each of their shoulders. Fred yelped in surprise. Willow motioned them to be   
  
quiet and held them back. Down the hall, they could see the door open and Gavin exit, as Willow had hoped. Her   
  
use of his name as her calling card had resulted in him being summoned when she disappeared. She didn't know   
  
how long her ruse would earn them. She hoped it was enough.  
  
They waited until the angry lawyer was out of sight before going to the door from which he had just exited.   
  
Willow turned to the other two, as Gunn began distributing weapons. "Everyone ready?"  
  
They nodded and Willow opened the door.  
  
**********  
  
Chapter 14  
  
  
  
Lilah was arguing with Linwood while Wesley stood next to her, nonchalantly surveying the room. Connor was   
  
being held behind a glass wall in a connecting room. The lawyers were watching the security monitors, as the   
  
scene Willow had set into motion played out. There were two other lawyers and four goons, who appeared to be   
  
security or bodyguards, near the hi-tech cage. Connor laid in a fetal position on the floor, clutching his stomach,   
  
his face a feral grimace of pain.  
  
  
  
They moved quickly, not knowing how much time they would have to control the situation. Gunn went after the   
  
goons while Fred threatened the lawyers with a sword, backing them into a corner. Lilah turned, angry with Wes   
  
for duping her, and decked him.  
  
  
  
He clutched his jaw with his left hand, and then backhanded her across her cheekbone with his right. She went   
  
flying to the floor. Wes hurried over to assist Gunn, who was outnumbered.  
  
  
  
Lilah sat up, holding her cheek. She glanced around and moved toward Wesley when the room darkened, like a   
  
smoke-filled bar. Linwood turned from where he was opening the glass door and looked in shock, as the guards'   
  
blows were suddenly unable to connect with Wesley or Gunn.  
  
  
  
He rushed in and shocked the young man with a tazer, as he had started to attack upon sensing freedom. The   
  
lawyer then lifted the boy and held him as a shield, the tazer pressed tightly against his jugular.  
  
  
  
Wes and Gunn subdued the guards, knocking them unconscious, just as Gavin returned with a security   
  
detachment of three large demons. He had been alerted to the situation by the silent alarm Lilah pressed.  
  
  
  
The demons rushed toward Wesley and Gunn while Lilah shouted to Gavin. "The witch, she's protecting them."   
  
The demons' blows continued to glance off the two in proof of this.  
  
  
  
Linwood took advantage of the distraction to maneuver for a better position. Gavin picked up a nearby vase and   
  
hit Willow over the head with the priceless artifact. Her control slipped and one of the demons sliced Gunn's arm   
  
with a large claw.  
  
  
  
Fred cried out in fear. One of the lawyers she was guarding tried to take advantage of her distraction, but Fred   
  
turned on them with renewed purpose, holding onto her sword with serious resolve.  
  
  
  
Connor broke free from his captor, as Linwood watched Willow turn on Gavin. The diminutive redhead lifted the   
  
lawyer by his throat and pinned him one-handed, helpless against the wall. He struggled to get free as Connor   
  
knocked Linwood to the floor.  
  
  
  
He joined Wesley and Gunn in attacking the demons. He fought like a wild beast, almost hitting Wesley a time or   
  
two. Wesley was thankful for the protection provided by Willow, and glanced over to check on her. Lilah was   
  
making her way toward the door and Willow. He picked up a heavy volume from the nearby table and flung it at   
  
the lawyer's head.  
  
  
  
One of the demons had fallen, allowing Connor to go after Linwood, who was starting to recover. Wesley was   
  
once again reminded of Angel, as he watched the vampire's son attack the older lawyer. Linwood fought back,   
  
once again hitting Connor with the force of the tazer. The boy fell to the floor and twitched once before becoming   
  
still.  
  
  
  
"No!" Wesley cried out as Linwood kicked the motionless boy in the ribs. He attacked the demon with renewed   
  
vigor, killing it quickly and rushing Linwood. His hope of finding Angel, of making peace with the vampire, was   
  
resting on the shoulders of the boy whose condition was unknown.  
  
  
  
Gunn killed the last demon and turned to survey the situation. He turned to Wesley and stood between him and   
  
Linwood, holding the bloodied sword against the lawyer's neck. "Wes, you better go take care of your girl. I got   
  
this one."  
  
  
  
Wes saw Willow, still holding Gavin against the wall, as he gasped for air. She was shaking, hate, anger and fear   
  
rolling off her in waves. He walked to her, speaking softly. "Willow, it's over. You can let him go now. He's not a   
  
threat. I'll deal with him now. I need you here, with us. I need you to check on Connor. Let him go."   
  
  
  
The last he spoke with steely intent, and she responded, releasing Gavin to slide down the wall, holding his neck   
  
and gasping. Willow crumbled to the floor and began to cry.  
  
  
  
"Willow -- go check on Connor. Help him," Wesley demanded sharply as he grabbed a handful of Gavin's jacket   
  
and jerked him to his feet.  
  
  
  
Willow did as he said, crawling over to where Connor still lay. She placed her fingers against his neck, feeling a   
  
bit of calmness reach her when she registered the strong beat. She shook him gently, and he began to regain   
  
consciousness.  
  
  
  
Gunn forced Linwood toward the room where Connor had been held. He picked up the tazer, as he walked   
  
passed where it had fallen to the floor earlier. He was careful to keep his eyes, and sword, on the lawyer. When   
  
Linwood was in the cell, he struck the lawyer on the side of the head with the hilt of the sword, knocking him   
  
unconscious.  
  
  
  
Gunn went over to help Fred. He gently took the sword from her hands, reassuring her. He pointed the sword at   
  
the lawyers and motioned with it, and a jerk of his head, that they were to move toward the cell. He escorted   
  
them inside and then stood by the control panel. Wesley was right behind him with Gavin. When Gavin was   
  
inside, Wesley went over and picked Lilah up, dropping her on her backside in the room as well. Gunn pressed a   
  
button and the door slid closed.  
  
  
  
Willow helped Connor to his feet, and he jerked away from her as soon as he was standing. They all regrouped at   
  
the door.   
  
  
  
Wesley turned to Connor. "We're getting out of here. You're welcome to join us. Are you ready to help us now?"  
  
  
  
Connor grunted and answered affirmatively.  
  
  
  
Wesley then looked at Willow. "Are you going to be alright? We still have to get out of here."  
  
  
  
"I'll be okay," she said tightly. "Let's just get out of Dodge."  
  
  
  
Wesley nodded and opened the door a crack. The hall was surprisingly empty. They walked quickly to the   
  
stairway that Willow had used. They found it abandoned and cautiously made their way down to the ground   
  
floor.  
  
  
  
"Do we rush it, or go out the same way we came in?" Willow looked to Wesley for advice.  
  
  
  
"They might recognize you, or Connor and me. I think Fred and Gunn might be safe. However, if an alarm has   
  
been raised we might all be in danger. How are you doing? Any tricks left up your sleeves?"  
  
  
  
"I'm pretty drained." She turned to Fred and Gunn. "You guys up to clearing the way? You go first. Try to avoid   
  
everyone. Same drill as before. Then, we'll go once you guys are out of the building."  
  
  
  
"Get the truck, Gunn," Wesley asked, "we may need a quick getaway. And take care of her." His tone made it   
  
clear that there might be trouble.  
  
  
  
Gunn and Fred got out with no problem. They broke into a run just outside the door. Trouble was just behind   
  
them in the form of security guards that moved to the door and started checking identification.  
  
  
  
Wesley swore and looked to the other two. He mouthed silently, "One... two... three." He pulled open the door   
  
and they ran for it.  
  
  
  
The guards left the door and went after Wesley as he was in the lead and looked like the biggest threat. Willow   
  
grabbed Connor's hand and pulled him with her toward the door, when he looked like he was going to join the   
  
fracas. Wesley slugged one of the men and ran after them. Gunn was as good as his word and had the truck   
  
waiting right outside the main doors. They jumped into the back and Gunn accelerated wildly.  
  
  
  
They had pulled it off.  
  
  
  
**********  
  
Chapter 15  
  
The drive back to the hotel was a quiet one, where each seemed lost in their thoughts. Even Fred was   
  
uncharacteristically silent.  
  
Willow sat in the back of the truck with her eyes closed. Her chin rested on her knees, which were drawn tightly   
  
to her chest, with her arms clasped around them.  
  
Wesley sat in one of the corners, his relaxed posture contradicting his intense stare, as he watched Connor, who   
  
was perched uneasily in the opposite corner. The young man seemed to dance on the balls of his feet, as if he   
  
would leap from the moving vehicle at any moment.  
  
It was with little relief that they all arrived back at the hotel, despite their apparent victory. They went inside and   
  
the women took up their now customary perches in the reception area. Gunn hung back at the door to waylay   
  
Wesley. He placed his hand on the older man's arm and warned quietly, "Go easy on the boy, English. 'Cause he   
  
definitely looks the type to spook easy."  
  
Wesley gave a tight, little nod in acknowledgement and then went to sit down.  
  
Gunn looked over at Wesley, sitting opposite Willow, and at Fred who was balanced nervously on the edge of the   
  
couch. Willow still held her semi-fetal position in the chair and Connor alternately stalked from and hid in the   
  
shadows surrounding them. Gunn decided to do something about this mess.  
  
"Yo! Guys, I'll be right back. Don't everybody run off, ok?" He rolled his eyes and walked back out the door,   
  
gripping his keys.  
  
When he returned twenty minutes later, Connor seemed to have been the only one to have moved, though he   
  
was still lurking. Gunn whistled a cheery tune and dumped his packages on the table. He ignored everyone's   
  
silence and began talking, to them, to himself, aloud, as he distributed coffees and doughnuts to everyone.  
  
Willow stared blankly. Fred offered a shy smile and Wesley looked at him speculatively. Gunn placed Connor's   
  
coffee on the corner of the table closest to the boy and then sat back.  
  
The boy darted forward and took the drink before settling back into the corner. Gunn paid him no mind and   
  
continued to chat with Fred, who was smiling and talking back. Powdered sugar coated her fingers and lips and   
  
he longed to reach out and brush away the sweetness, especially when a drop of jelly joined it next to her   
  
mouth.  
  
"What?" she asked, looking around wildly as a huge grin spread across his face.  
  
"Nothing," he replied with a smile and a shake of his head.  
  
"Char-les?"  
  
"It's nothing. You just have this little bit of..." He reached out and ran his thumb near her lip. Her tongue darted   
  
out to lick it in an unconscious gesture and he groaned softly.  
  
Wesley cleared his throat and Fred got all flustered, reaching for a napkin and rambling absently to herself. Gunn   
  
took this opportunity to draw Wesley into the conversation, and to start coaxing Willow out as well.   
  
Gunn noticed that Connor had been intrigued by the play between him and Fred, and felt a little weird, but if it   
  
helped his cause, he'd flirt with that girl anytime. Wesley seemed to have forgotten about Connor for the   
  
moment.  
  
Willow eventually started to relax, and as Gunn figured he would, Connor eventually came out to get a doughnut   
  
of his own. He didn't retreat as far this time. When he took his second doughnut, he actually remained crouched   
  
at the table.  
  
Suddenly, Willow cried out, rocking forward harshly and barely setting her coffee down before she was once   
  
again flung back into the chair. Wesley was up in an instant, reaching for her and holding her through the vision,   
  
and afterward as she told them the details.  
  
If they were surprised when Connor joined them at the weapons cabinet, and in their fight with the demon, no   
  
one said anything. Everyone had their own demons, and their own reasons for fighting, even Connor.  
  
********** 


	4. Chapters 16 through 20

Chapter 16  
  
As the summer progressed, the small group began to rebuild Angel Investigations. For Gunn and Wesley, it was   
  
much like the time that Angel had fired them, especially for Wesley whose current relationship with Angel was   
  
filled with animosity.  
  
Gunn coordinated attacks and became their unofficial leader in battle. Even Connor started to take his cues from   
  
him. Willow began to manage the office, even bravely tackling the filing system that Cordelia had left behind.   
  
Wesley returned to research and to reestablishing his contacts. Fred flitted between them, helping where she   
  
could, when she could sit still long enough. Wesley was teaching her about what it was that he did, in the very   
  
real possibility that he would have to leave when Angel returned.  
  
Connor drifted in and out. If he was there when Willow had a vision, he would help them out. Occasionally, he   
  
would have a meal with them. They never knew from one night to the next if he would be sleeping up in his   
  
room or not, but the nights he did slowly became more frequent. Everyone tried not to push him, especially   
  
Wesley, who knew that Connor held the key to finding Angel. The boy was slowly learning, being reconditioned to   
  
the idea of family, and of right and wrong, without him knowing it. He too was becoming part of the new Angel   
  
Investigations.  
  
He was more shocked than anyone else to realize, one day, that he was holding the red-headed witch, on the   
  
floor of the lobby, as she recovered from her latest vision. He slowly stoked her hair in a soothing and curious   
  
manner. Willow lay still in his lap, not wanting to scare him off, and not wanting to jar her head with sudden   
  
movements. Wesley held on to the corner of the wall to keep himself from tearing Willow away and protecting   
  
her. He needed to force himself to see this through. Gunn was once again practical and brought her some   
  
aspirin and water.  
  
Wesley was a little surprised to discover how much he had come to care about Willow in the last few months.   
  
They had spent a lot of time together, and their meetings on the rooftop for coffee had become a regular ritual.   
  
She didn't know many people in LA, and other than the occasionally calls by Giles to check up on her, she had   
  
had little contact with he friends she had left behind in Sunnydale. They had spent many evenings together,   
  
while Fred and Gunn were busy, first, out of mutual loneliness, then out of mutual desire.  
  
When Willow was ready, they all stood and geared up. They headed to the beach, all realizing that there had   
  
been some sort of shift in the dynamics of the group.  
  
**********  
  
Chapter 17  
  
They had fought the nest of Corsalch demons, and were burning the corpses in a beachfront bonfire. Fred and   
  
Gunn were toasting marshmallows in a separate smaller fire and giggling as the sticky confection coated their   
  
fingers and faces. Wesley and Willow were sitting close together, sharing confidences, as they had begun to do   
  
over the last few months. Connor was standing at the edge of the surf, looking out over the horizon, as the   
  
waves lapped at his feet.  
  
Wesley saw the eerie stillness of the boy who was always in motion, and sensed something important was   
  
happening. He excused himself from Willow with a smile, brushing his hand over her hair before joining Connor.  
  
Both were silent as the waves slid in and out. Wesley had learned not to push, and was developing an affection   
  
for the young man he was reconciling to the child he had tried and failed to save. He lent his silent support and   
  
waited for Connor to open up to him.  
  
When Connor did talk, it surprised the hell out of him. "He's out there somewhere. I did that to him. We put him   
  
in a box and dropped him into the water. They didn't have that much water where on Quor-toth. I had never   
  
seen an ocean before.  
  
"My father told me about vampires, that they can't die. Only the sun, or a stake or cutting off their heads would   
  
kill them. He's still alive. We locked him in a metal box and dropped him in there, so that he couldn't get out and   
  
he couldn't die.  
  
"Why didn't I kill him? My father, Holtz, he wanted me to. He died so that I would. Why isn't he dead?"  
  
Wesley didn't know what to do. His instincts were warring to snatch up the boy, and pound him, asking, "How   
  
can you do this? He would have done anything for you. How could you? Where is he? Where is he?" He knew   
  
better. He knew he had to take this slow if he had any chance of saving either of them, both of them.  
  
He took a deep breath. "I don't know.   
  
"Did anyone ever tell you the story of how you ended up with Holtz, and not with Angel, how Holtz ended up   
  
taking you to Quor-toth?"  
  
Connor looked at him in confusion and shook his head. Even his father had only said that he took Stephen to   
  
protect him from the demon who was his actual father.  
  
Willow had wandered near, wanting to lend her support to the man and boy she had come to care for. She   
  
listened carefully, as Wesley began, wanting to learn more about the ache that was tearing him up inside.  
  
Wesley looked out over the ocean for a moment. This was what he had to do. It was part of his penance "...   
  
maybe they'll punish you enough..." the whisper of Willow's voice that day she came to the apartment, flitted   
  
through his head. He must bare his soul and try to mend the riff between father and son.  
  
"We were researching a prophecy, the Tro-clan. It told of the person or being that brings about the ruination of   
  
mankind, or something like that, or so we thought. It was actually a confluence of events. Then Darla showed up   
  
at the hotel.  
  
"She was pregnant, quite pregnant in fact. She was very upset with Angel. She had been trying for months to...   
  
well, it doesn't really matter. But she didn't know any more than we did, how a vampire had managed to   
  
become pregnant, especially by another vampire.  
  
"She started to go into labor, and it seemed that every force in town wanted to get their hands on her and her   
  
child. We were fighting vampires and Wolfram and Hart," Wesley sighed, "and then Holtz showed up.  
  
"Hundreds of years ago, Darla and the then Angelus were being hunted by Holtz, and to torture him, they killed   
  
his family, and turned his daughter. He vowed revenge. He made a deal with a demon named Sahjan, and came   
  
200 years into the future for that revenge.  
  
"Darla, as you know, was a vampire. As such, she was dead. Her body was unable to sustain the process of   
  
giving birth. She was also concerned that, once she had given birth, she would be a danger to you, as well. She   
  
asked Angel to care for you, and then... She staked herself. You were born from her ashes.  
  
"Holtz was there, and for his own reasons, let you and your father survive. This, however, did not stop any of the   
  
groups that were trying to get a hold of you.  
  
"We did what we could to protect you. However, unknown to us, at the time, Wolfram and Hart began mixing   
  
your blood into Angel's blood supply. He began acting strangely.  
  
"In the meantime, I had discovered a prophecy that I believed indicated that Angel would kill you. It wasn't until   
  
after you were gone that I discovered that I was in error. The prophecy was false, planted by Sahjan to prevent   
  
you from killing him, as the true prophecy stated.  
  
"I tried to guarantee your safety. I betrayed Angel and my friends and met with Holtz. He assured me that you   
  
would come to no harm, and he would raise you as his own.  
  
"He betrayed me, as I deserved, and Justine slit my throat and left me for dead.  
  
"Angel caught up with Holtz, as did Wolfram and Hart and Sahjan. Sahjan threatened to suck the world into the   
  
Quor-toth if you were not killed. Holtz took you and ran into the portal. It sealed behind him, stranding you both   
  
in that dimension.  
  
"Angel blamed me for your loss. I took his son from him and gave you to his enemies. All he cared about was   
  
getting you back. He attempted to do so using some dark magics, which resulted in the rift that you eventually   
  
did come through.  
  
"The thing about all of us, the people we are, and the family we have become... We all have things to atone for."   
  
Wesley looked over the small group on the beach, his face softening when he saw Willow listening intently.   
  
"Except, maybe Fred, but she is a special case, with her own demons.  
  
"None of us is perfect, not me, not Angel. We are all just looking for redemption, and maybe a little peace."   
  
Wesley gave a wry little smile and shrugged. "We have only our consciences to guide us, and the idea that the   
  
fight is a good one, necessary."  
  
Wesley stood and brushed off his pants. He stared out into the ocean. "Only you can decide how you will fight   
  
and why. Holtz can't do that for you. Neither can Angel. Nor can I."  
  
Taking his words to heart, he turned away and left the boy to his thoughts. As he walked away, Willow stood and   
  
welcomed him into her arms, tears in her eyes.  
  
**********  
  
Chapter 18   
  
Connor had remained silent for the rest of the night and much of the next morning. Wesley had remained closed   
  
in his office alternately pacing or flipping through various texts, unable to absorb a single word.  
  
He had made some phone calls, tried to get things ready for when the boy came around, but it was fruitless   
  
without the boy's help. He had even worked with Willow to do a locator spell, like she had done for Connor. She   
  
had confessed that she had tried before, with no luck.   
  
She believed as the others did, that he wasn't dead, and if he was in the ocean, he was supposedly still on this   
  
plane. Still, she had no luck in locating him, even with this new information. She had rambled on, trying to   
  
explain away why Angel couldn't be found, but she looked as dejected as he felt.  
  
If he was too far away, or in this case, too far down, it might still be able to locate him, even with Connor's help.   
  
It would also leave them with the problem of raising him from those depths. Wesley slammed his fist on the desk   
  
in frustration.  
  
When Connor finally came to knock on his door, he almost exploded, "Come in!"  
  
Connor looked shaken, but he stood fast. "He... I... We took him on a boat, about ten miles out. He's near Point   
  
Dume. He... We left him at the bottom in an iron box." He shifted nervously. "I want to help you... to get him   
  
back."  
  
Wesley nodded, holding onto his composure and picked up the phone. The number had been memorized late last   
  
night, waiting only on a location. "We're ready," he spoke into the phone. "Tonight, sunset, Point Dume." he   
  
listened to his contact on the other end. "Yes, that'll be fine. We'll be there."  
  
He stood up and walked to the doorway. He placed one hand on Connor's shoulder and called to Willow, where   
  
she was talking quietly to Gunn and Fred. "Willow. Are you ready?"  
  
"Yes, Wes. Is it time?"  
  
"Almost. Gather your things; we meet at sunset.  
  
"Gunn, we're going to need blood. Human, if you can get it. Quite a bit. He... Angel won't have fed in... since   
  
he's been gone. And Gunn, gear up. We don't know what we'll be facing."  
  
Everyone sobered as they realized he meant the starving vampire as well as external forces. Each of them   
  
scrambled to do his or her respective part. Willow prepared the spells she would need. Gunn got supplies.   
  
Connor and Wesley coordinated the rescue with what details the boy could remember. Fred worked on the   
  
logistics of trying to raise the iron crypt from the bottom of the ocean.  
  
Finally, it was time. They all walked together out the front door. It was time to bring one of the lost members of   
  
their family home. Angel would be saved. They would worry about the consequences later.  
  
**********  
  
Chapter 19  
  
Willow roamed the moonlit beach gathering shells, sand dollars and other treasures that had been washed up by   
  
the tide. She grounded and centered, preparing for her part in the rescue, as the others readied the boat.  
  
She had considered that some magic force, or The Powers That Be may be blocking her spell, but realized it was   
  
the ocean itself. When she had tried again last night, she could almost feel the ebb and flow of the tide as it   
  
responded to the almost full moon. The ocean itself was almost a living, breathing entity. The waters of life,   
  
teeming and overflowing in abundance. Magically, it was a great place to hide things. The ocean keeps her own   
  
conscious and hides her treasures well.  
  
Wesley signaled to her, and she made her way back to them. It was time.  
  
He squeezed her hand in reassurance as she boarded the flat boat, and she felt instantly calmer. She made her   
  
way to the back of the barge and sat in the middle of the large flat deck, not far from the end, where the water   
  
broke over the flat edge.   
  
She began to assemble a small altar with a blue and white cloth of washed silk. Her items from the beach formed   
  
a circle on the cloth, representing the circle of life. In the center of this she placed an open silver fan. She   
  
reached into the pouch at her waist and took out a handful of sea salt and white rose petals. She scattered them   
  
in a circle around her, speaking words of protection, of reverence and humility, and of blessing. Then she began   
  
to meditate.  
  
The engine slowed and idled down as they reached the point that Connor had indicated on the map. Willow stood   
  
in the center of her circle and unbound her hair. The others hung back to watch and to wait. Her hair and the   
  
blue robe she wore danced in the breeze and clung to her body in the ocean spray.  
  
She lifted a large conch shell above her head and began. "Ocean Mother, Yemaya, Mother Water, the Star of the   
  
Sea. She who knows the hidden depths and is keeper of the sunken treasures, upon you now I call.  
  
"Come to us, who are in need of your wisdom and guidance. Know that we ask your blessing in love, as children   
  
of your waters, and as seekers of your true wisdom, that we may find that which was lost to us. Come. Stella   
  
Maris, Yemaya. Come."  
  
The winds picked up and Willow's eyes shone bright blue with white clouds dancing through their depths. Storm   
  
clouds rolled in. The shell she held aloft began to glow with a blue light in the darkness, like a beacon. A stream   
  
of blue light shot out from her upraised hands and struck one of the clouds. From it, a strike of lightning flashed,   
  
crashing down into the ocean about fifteen yards northeast of their position and illuminating the night.  
  
Wesley signaled to the captain and the boat slowly idled up, moving toward the spot. The shell in Willow's hands   
  
grew brighter, shifting from blue to white as they moved to the area marked by the goddess.  
  
"Stop!" Willow called out, and knelt on the deck. She placed the shell down in the center of her altar, and the   
  
Captain dropped the anchor. She turned and nodded. "He's here." At her words, the divers donned their   
  
breathing apparatuses and dove overboard.  
  
Everyone seemed to hold his or her breath as long minutes passed. Finally, one of the divers broke the surface   
  
and signaled for the winch. They cried out in relief as the large chain began to unwind.  
  
The diver once again disappeared below the surface. Just as he did, Fred called out and pointed to the yacht   
  
pulling closer to them from the north. Its searchlights were bearing down on them.  
  
**********  
  
Chapter 20   
  
Wesley and Gunn both cursed, as they could see Lilah, Gavin and Linwood on the bow of the yacht that obviously   
  
belonged to Wolfram and Hart. Gunn began unpacking weapons as the yacht pulled up along the barge. Two   
  
men came off the bridge with large swords and stood beside Connor, Fred, Wesley and Gunn. The captain began   
  
retracting the anchor and the barge swayed. Willow did her best to keep it still so that the divers could get to   
  
Angel. Unfortunately, that also made it easier for the men and demons that were trying to board their boat by   
  
the ramp lowered from the yacht.  
  
Connor rushed Justine as she joined the contingent from Wolfram and Hart. Wesley and Gunn were trying to   
  
keep the intruders at bay and the two groups began fighting in earnest. The lawyers hung back and watched the   
  
melee.   
  
One of the divers activated the winch, stopping its descent. The loud grinding noise as the chain stopped,   
  
spurred the group to more furious fighting and jarred the barge so that the ramp broke free. Justine and Connor   
  
were both knocked about at the movement, and she fell overboard. Connor leaped back onto the deck.  
  
One of the demons was coming up behind Wesley. Willow saw a bright Technicolor image of his sword swinging   
  
toward Wesley's head, with the eerie knowledge that this was about to happen. She screamed out his name, and   
  
he reacted instinctively, swinging around toward her voice. He moved out of range as the demon began his   
  
swing and his opponent was beheaded instead.  
  
The winch began to move again, ascending. Wesley and Gunn dispatched the last of the demons just as the iron   
  
box broke the surface. Willow quickly thanked the Goddess and bid her farewell, opening her circle. All that was   
  
left was to escape.  
  
Wesley yelled at the Captain to start the engines and Willow helped pull the divers aboard. Together they   
  
secured the retrieved box. They pulled away as Fred pushed the last man from Wolfram and Hart overboard.  
  
Linwood scowled as his men began to climb back up the ladder to the yacht, but they didn't pursue. Lilah moved   
  
to give Justine a hand as she reached the top of the ladder and pulled her aboard. She smiled in her self-satisfied   
  
way and held onto the young woman's hand. "Welcome to Wolfram and Hart."  
  
********** 


	5. Chapters 21 through 25 end

Chapter 21   
  
When they had gone a safe distance, the barge stopped again and they pulled the iron coffin to the center of the   
  
deck. Wesley hung back, as did Connor, as one of the divers lit an acetylene torch. Gunn opened the cooler of   
  
blood and stood near the man who was cutting open Angel's prison.  
  
Angel was still. He looked cold and pale, like a corpse pulled from a grave. This wasn't far from the truth, as he   
  
lay unconscious in tattered clothing in what was meant to be his coffin.  
  
His eyes opened as the first drops of blood hit his face. He growled and grabbed for Gunn, but Fred was there   
  
holding a cross. He released the young black man, retreating with a feral growl and began feeding ravenously on   
  
the proffered nourishment.  
  
He was drinking the third packet when he blinked and began to warily look around, taking in his surroundings.   
  
He saw Wesley standing behind Connor, with his hand on the boy's shoulder and began to lunge for him. He was   
  
stopped by another cross and Willow sharply calling his name.  
  
"Angel!" Willow cried out, and the vampire felt himself thrown back against the deck at the force of her   
  
command.  
  
He took a deep breath, in an eerie parody of human turned predator, and relaxed. Angel flexed his muscles   
  
slowly, but unthreateningly. He listened and heard their heartbeats, smelled the fear and nervousness. He   
  
registered that Gunn was there, and Fred, and Willow. Wesley and Connor were there, but he sensed no threat,   
  
only concern.  
  
After so much time of being deprived of his senses, of companionship, he was having difficulty reconciling reality.   
  
His mind was still filled of images of the nightmares that plagued him, of Wesley's betrayal, of Connor. Holtz and   
  
Darla and Buffy and all those he had failed were there, haunting his endless moments where he had no   
  
distraction from his thoughts. Except there was one. The soothing sweet voice must have been a dream as well,   
  
but it wasn't. She had been there with him. Somehow, in some way, Cordelia had been there and kept him sane.   
  
She kept reminding him that he would be saved and that she loved him.  
  
He met Wesley's eyes and the ex-watcher stood his ground and looked back unabashedly. Angel gave a slight   
  
nod in acknowledgement and stood. He held his hands out slightly from his body in a non-threatening posture.   
  
They began to relax and Fred cried out in happiness. She hugged Gunn tightly and he wrapped his arm around   
  
her.   
  
"Welcome back, man," he said as the boat pulled into dock.  
  
**********  
  
Chapter 22   
  
They all made their way to Gunn's truck. As they climbed in, Willow noticed that Wesley wasn't with them. He   
  
was across the lot, climbing onto his bike. He started it up and rode away, leaving them all behind.  
  
Willow felt a sense of loss, as she realized that Wesley would not be joining them now that Angel was back. It   
  
wasn't fair. No one seemed to notice, but when she looked up, she saw Angel looking in the direction the ex-  
  
watcher had gone, a tight expression on his face.  
  
They were entering the Hyperion, when Fred turned to look around, from her position at Gunn's side, and asked,   
  
"Where's Wesley?"  
  
Angel answered her. "He left." His tone and expression showed the animosity he still felt.  
  
Fred stuttered on, "Where? Why? He... "  
  
Gunn stepped up. "Angel, man, I know you're mad at him, but he's our boy. You were right before, but not this   
  
time. He got you back. He brought Connor back. You gotta let it go."  
  
Angel pursed his lips and ground out, "He... took... my... son." He stared down the young man, but Gunn didn't   
  
even flinch.  
  
It was Connor who broke the silence. "He... we all have done things, things we regret. He taught me that. We   
  
don't turn away. We help each other. We help them. He helped me, us. He's one of us."  
  
Angel looked down, stunned at the boy he didn't know, yet was suddenly proud was his son. Wesley was a part   
  
of that. Wesley had given him back his son. He couldn't forget what the other man had done, but he could begin   
  
to forgive. It's what they wanted, what he wanted, what Cordelia would have wanted. He closed his eyes as he   
  
felt that assurance deep inside himself.  
  
He pinched the bridge of his nose, letting go of some of the anger, and nodded, acknowledging the truth. Wesley   
  
was family, and you don't abandon family. He would make peace with the man, even as he had tried to make   
  
peace with Darla.  
  
**********  
  
Chapter 23   
  
Willow was dreaming. She was back on the beach where she had met Cordelia. The fight she had heard before   
  
still raged in the cave before her. This time, the demon who had been there before was not there to block her   
  
way.   
  
  
  
She entered the cave and the firelight grew brighter. Wesley was deep in battle, sweat-soaked with blood   
  
dripping into his eye from a cut on his forehead. Angel and Connor sat near the fire, leaning close to each other   
  
and whispering as they tended the flame and watched the fight. Fred and Gunn held each other close and stood   
  
at the edge of the circle surrounding the two warriors.  
  
As she drew closer, Willow was only slightly surprised to see that the figure Wesley was battling was a shadow   
  
figure of himself. The shadow shifted from the young watcher she had known in Sunnydale, to a grizzled   
  
unkempt version of himself, and back again. The shifting figure kept hurtling accusations and insults at Wesley.  
  
"You're not good enough. Of, course they don't want you around. You're nothing but a screw-up. All you ever do   
  
is fail. What makes you think that you deserve them, any of them? You're nothing but a sorry excuse for a   
  
human being. Wesley, the weasel..."  
  
Willow winced as the insults continued and Wesley battled on. She could feel it wearing on him and knew what   
  
this was like. She had gone through this when she battled her addiction to magic and again after she had tried to   
  
end the world. Her heart went out to the man before her, as he battled his inner demons.  
  
She reached out for him and felt a blinding flash flow up her arm and into her chest. She cried out in pain and   
  
sat up on the couch where she had fallen asleep, her arm still outstretched. Tears ran down her face. She   
  
scrambled off the couch and grabbed her keys. She had to go to him. She had to let him know that he wasn't   
  
alone anymore. They had each other. They could battle their demons together, if he would let her.  
  
**********  
  
Chapter 24  
  
It was still dark outside when she parked her car outside Wesley's apartment, though dawn was near. She   
  
gathered her courage and sent up a silent prayer. She could see the lights still on in his window.  
  
She knocked on his door and shuffled back and forth on her feet, wondering what to do, now that she was here.   
  
Wesley answered the door and stepped back so that she could enter. She was mildly surprised to see Angel   
  
sitting in one of the overstuffed chairs with his hands folded in his lap. She stood, uncertain, and looked back at   
  
Wesley.  
  
Angel noticed the exchange and stood. He spoke to Wesley. "Think about it, Wes. You know where to find us."  
  
Wesley nodded and Angel walked out the still open door, his coat billowing behind him. Wesley stood there for a   
  
moment and then closed the door. He looked awkwardly at Willow. "Can I get you something?"  
  
"Umm, no, I..." Willow shrugged.  
  
Wesley nodded and moved further into the room.  
  
"Wesley," she spoke softly and put her hand on his arm as he started to walk past her.  
  
He stopped and looked down at her hand. Neither moved. Then he smiled slightly and covered her hand with his.   
  
He then lifted it to his lips, and brushed a soft kiss on the back of it.  
  
She moved closer and reached up, pulling his head down to kiss him, chastely, on the lips. A shock rippled   
  
through them both and time seemed to stop.  
  
An eternity later, she leaned back and he looked down at her with a glazed expression, slightly in awe of the   
  
redheaded beauty who had just kissed him. Then, as if a spell had been broken, he shook his head and wretched   
  
himself away from her.  
  
"Get out," he said gruffly. "I don't need this. I don't need your pity."  
  
"Pity? Why should I pity you? I told you, Wesley, I *don't* feel sorry for you. Why should I? You made your   
  
choices. I made mine.  
  
"I'm here because I want to be, because I need to be, and if you'd get off your high horse, you'd admit that you   
  
need me too.  
  
"If you think it was easy for me to come here to admit how I feel for you, you are mistaken, buster. It's like you   
  
told Connor. We all have our own demons, but we don't have to fight them alone. I am here because I want to   
  
help you fight yours and because maybe you can help me to fight mine. Because, dammit, Wesley, I love you.   
  
Somewhere in the middle of this, when I didn't even think it was possible, I fell in love with you... you stuck-up,   
  
English, watcher-person.  
  
She was crying openly now, and he just stood there. She gave a strangled cry and turned away. Her eyes almost   
  
blinded by tears, she ran for the door.  
  
He beat her to it. He held the door closed and looked down at her. She turned to hit him on the chest, trying to   
  
get him to let her go. He gathered her into his arms and held her close.  
  
"I love you, too," he said quietly. She looked up at him in disbelief and he said it again. "I love you." He lifted her   
  
chin and began to kiss away her tears.  
  
**********  
  
Chapter 25  
  
They spent the night in each other's arms. They drifted in and out of sleep, but mostly, they talked.  
  
Wesley told Willow about what had gone on in L.A. for the last three years. He talked about his childhood and the   
  
time he spent in the road alone after Sunnydale.  
  
Willow told him about Tara, about falling in love with her and about Glory and Buffy's death. She spoke of the   
  
magic and bringing back Buffy from the dead. She told him about losing herself to the magic and losing Tara.   
  
She told him of what she had done in Sunnydale and how scared she still was when she sensed the magic   
  
building inside of her. Then she told him about Cordelia, the visions and the dreams. She shared her fears and   
  
her growing love for him.  
  
They spoke of love and the future. He knew of the place Tara held in her heart, and the place he now held. She   
  
knew too, her place in his heart. They knew that whatever came, they would face it together. With this   
  
knowledge shining between them, they went home, to be with the rest of their family.  
  
As they entered the lobby of the hotel, everyone turned to look at them. Gunn smiled and Fred giggled as they   
  
saw the new couple holding hands. Willow blushed and Wesley stood tall, bringing their joined hands up to his   
  
chest.  
  
Connor and Gunn were moving furniture and Angel was standing back directing them. Fred was wearing long   
  
latex gloves and was busy cleaning the lobby. A large rug covered the red pentagram in the middle of the floor,   
  
and the couches and chairs had been rearranged around it to form a reception area. The corner, that had been   
  
their gathering place, now held a circle of desks and several new lights. There was also a folding screen at the   
  
edge of the area that could act as a privacy barrier. Bookcases and filing cabinets lined the walls.  
  
Wesley could see the office that had been his. It now contained more bookcases and a large conference table.   
  
Fred spoke up, excited, as they took in the changes. "It's all together now, like a round table. Well, it's not really   
  
round, or a table, and there's no king. But, we're kind of like knights and everybody's the same, equal, like the   
  
round table."  
  
Wesley smiled. They really were family and it was finally as it should be. He wasn't in charge; neither was Angel.   
  
More importantly, he no longer felt the need to be. They were all the same, fighting the same fight, the good   
  
fight, together.  
  
The phone rang and Angel turned to answer it. "Angel Investigations, we help the hopeless."  
  
Wesley thought to himself, "that we do..."  
  
From above, Cordelia smiled down on them all, her family. 


End file.
